


Vomit

by BlueWingedAngel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, vaguely incestuous themes?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:36:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3249935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueWingedAngel/pseuds/BlueWingedAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia is sick and Bellamy has no idea what to do. </p><p>(Written for prompt #94. Vomit from my 100 prompts table for the 100.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vomit

Octavia was sick. 

Usually, it was Bellamy who got sick, or their mother. The two of them were out in the world in their own ways and the two of them got sick more often than Octavia liked to think about.

But today it was her turn, and it was _bad_. 

“Mom, she’s burning up!” Bellamy said, his cool hand on her forehead, and she pressed desperately into his soothing touch. “What do I do?” 

“There’s nothing to do,” their mother said. “Just bring her food and fluids and she’ll burn through it in no time.” 

Bellamy made a little noise of concern. “Mom, she’s _really_ hot...” 

Octavia giggled in a delirious state and Bellamy glanced at her in confusion. “‘m hot,” she agreed. “You think ‘m hot.” 

He rolled his eyes, neither confirming nor denying, and looked back at their mother. “She needs a doctor.” 

“What’s the point in a doctor if she’ll be locked up for, and executed in, four years?” their mother said as she got ready to leave. “Use your wits, Bellamy. Just take care of her.” 

He nodded, looking down at Octavia, then scooped her into his arms, carrying her over and laying her on his bunk. 

Her response to this was to turn and throw up over the edge. 

He made a tiny noise and brushed a hand over her hair. “I’ll clean that up,”  he said. “You just concentrate on feeling better...” He moved away and she watched him, eyes blurry and half-lidded. 

It wasn’t until the next evening that she showed any sign of improvement, and she showed it by curling closer to his side and pressing her face to his shoulder. “You always look after me.” 

He kissed her hair. “Day you were born, I promised... I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

She smiled and curled closer. “Thank you.” 

He wrapped her up in his arms and she didn’t shy away from the warmth this time. “Just feel better, O.”

“I already do,” she said softly, pressing into his hold. “You make everything better.” 

He smiled and just held her as she slept off her sickness.


End file.
